


In Our Time

by Ellidiotts



Series: Rare-Pair One-Shots [1]
Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22918015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellidiotts/pseuds/Ellidiotts
Summary: Even through time, they’d find each other again.
Relationships: Graig | Hendrik/Hero | Luminary
Series: Rare-Pair One-Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2115096
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33





	In Our Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is really different from what I usually write, but I needed to do something outside of my comfort zone for a change.
> 
> Side note: Eleven is written as 18 (not 16). So the idea is that once he turned 18 was when he first left Cobblestone. Hendrik was 18 when he was born, therefore making him 36 in the current time.
> 
> Also let's not forget that you (as the hero) can romance Hendrik in the game regardless :)

Hendrik has spent his life training to become a knight, and aiming to be one of the best there ever was. 

Once he saw the fabled luminary-- how small, and frail he looked, stepping into the castle that first day-- he couldn’t believe his eyes. 

He didn’t look like any hero or villain he’d ever seen. He had to assume it was part of the convincing image of a man hiding his true nature. 

How wrong he was.

* * *

They were reunited, rather fittingly, shortly after the World’s Tree fell. The two of them ventured off together, leaving no time to waste.

He says he will be his sword, his shield-- and the luminary accepts him wholeheartedly. How was it possible, after all he had done?

He trys best not to dwell on it. He needs to forgive himself. 

The world was ending, and there was no guarantee they could complete their quest, nor remain alive to see it through to its inevitable conclusion.

When Hendrik falls, the hero was there to help him to his feet-- as if they’ve been friends since childhood. 

His smiles are uncommon, and Hendrik savours every last one.

* * *

They stop by a woodcutter’s hut, finding it empty-- spending the night, the first in weeks, under a comfortable shelter. Hendrik doesn’t let himself rest, keeping a protective eye over the hero as he slept.

Disaster strikes the following day-- they’re ambushed by some particularly strong monsters, like nothing they’d ever seen before. The hero falls. Hendrik feels like a failure, not being able to protect him. It was the first time he said the hero’s name out loud. Rage helps him defeat their foe, as he picks up the luminary in his arms and takes him to safety. 

He’s not good at this-- at taking care of someone. He goes out, finding healing herbs and antidotes to help. Although Eleven’s wounds are healed, a fever remains present, burning hot. He collects water, and tries his best to take care of him. 

He can’t go much longer without sleep, eventually passing out for a nap, against his own will.

When Hendrik wakes, there is a looming figure above him in the darkness, scaring him half to death. His sword is in his hands before he can think, until there is a soft light in front of him-- emanating from a hand.

He drops his weapon, finally seeing the face of Eleven before him. He doesn’t look well. Delirious, even. Hendrik tries to get up, finding a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place.

The young man was cold, _shivering_. The fire was out, but there’s no time. Eleven has found the closest source of heat. He’s always been a man of few words, climbing in close to the other without a second thought.

Hendrik lets it happen. 

It’s hard enough to comprehend his vulnerability. But he must also take care of him. 

If only he knew just how deep the feelings ran.

Each time they made camp, there was always an excuse. _It was always too cold_. Hendrik was used to it now, used to sharing space, used to waking up with his arms curled around someone warm. He looked forward to it, even. 

But he could never admit it.

He watched the hero sleep when he woke. So small, and seemingly fragile in his arms. He wasn’t sure how he did it. How he could get up in the face of everything against him, of evils greater than him, of fights he must persist through, when asking for none of it himself. He was born into this, yet no complaint from him was ever heard.

Hendrik moved to get up, but Eleven’s hands were firm on his chest, keeping him still. The hero was buried in his chest, making him blush. He wasn’t sure he could do much more of this. He was unbearably handsome.

No matter how many times he tried to fight his feelings, to bundle him in his arms and never let go-- he was beginning to lose control.

It was the last straw.

_You are trying my patience, hero._

Hendrik grasped Eleven’s wrist, flipping them over so that he was towering above them. The hero blinked, first caught by surprise, cheeks burning. They were close, purple hair falling around him. Hendrik was stern, staring at the younger man’s features with questionable intent.

He was waiting for a reason to stop, to be overpowered, for words to tell him to snap out of it-- but they never came. The kid was looking at him like a young man with a crush, a burning desire. Why he was the receiver of these affections-- he may never know. But who was he to deny the youth of such pleasure?

Hendrik closed the distance between them, receiving no resistance-- the hero was melting in his embrace, clawing at him like a starving man, wanting more. He wanted this too, that much he was sure of. He was also inexperienced-- they both were, but it was not something Hendrik would ever confess to. 

So he took the lead.

* * *

Reuniting the hero with his friends only further strengthened their bond. Hendrik was sure they could take down the evil residing above with their combined aid. 

Yet at the thought of their journey being over, he couldn’t help but wonder just what their relationship was, how far their feelings ran-- what would become of them afterwards? Perhaps Hendrik would return to Heliodor, taking up the aid of the King by his side once more, and putting their adventure behind them. Surely the Hero would marry his childhood companion, or perhaps even ask for the princesses’ hand. It made more sense than he-- nothing but an old, washed-up ‘hero’ himself.

As the darkness crumbled beneath them, Hendrik came to a realisation--

They’d done it. Together. They’d defeated Mordegan, and brought peace back to the world. 

But not all was well.

They’d still lost one of their companions, albeit one who Hendrik never was fortunate enough to meet. Now they speak of a way to bring her back. A way to manipulate time.

But only Eleven can go. Without his sword, his shield-- his bodyguard from Heliodor.

Hendrik wasn’t having it. It couldn’t end like this. Not after they’d come so far together.

When they learned of what must be done, they take a night to rest on it. It’s late, when he finds the hero by the cliffside, not far from their camp. He was staring at the stars, resting on the green fields beneath them.

The luminary sat up upon his presence, eyes sad but knowing. He is aware of what must be discussed, what must be sacrificed. But Hendrik must have his say, he needed to hear the words from himself. To at least say he tried.

He tries to stop him-- tells him not to leave. He meant too much to him now. He could see the heartbreak in the younger man’s eyes. He knows it too. It’s just as hard. He’s spent more time thinking about it than any of them, and knows what must be done.

They embrace, an action stronger than words. It was their last night together, and he was going to savour each and every moment as long as he could.

It was the end of their story. 

The hero will go back to a time when they were enemies once more. No memories apart from what Eleven carried with him. He would be alone, with his feelings not being reciprocated. He hoped he was a smart enough man in his past to see just how much the hero would mean to him.

And Hendrik, as he was in this current time, in this current place, would lose all of these precious memories that he holds so dearly.

* * *

When Hendrik arrived at the world’s tree, he was almost certain he’d be in for a fight. He’d learnt of Jasper’s betrayal, of his wavering loyalty, and needed to be sure of it. The king of their land must know the truth.

Jasper had meant more to him that he’d ever admitted to the other man. It broke his heart to see him falter, to turn to the darkness-- to become the one thing they’d swarn to banish. Seeing him fall to his knees before the luminary, the child of light-- made him realise just how wrong he had been all these years. 

Regardless of his actions, the hero accepted him into their group as if he’d always been welcomed. He couldn’t help but feel he was missing something-- for them to join forces was the last thing he expected.

There was something about the hero, when he looked at him. Like there was something Hendrik had forgotten, and it was on the tip of his tongue. Something he had to say, or do-- there was _something_.

Eleven was stoic, yet there was a look in his eye that he’d sometimes catch. A loneliness. A longingness. Whenever they were alone. He seemed to avoid Hendrik, and he couldn’t blame him, after everything he’d done.

He decided to confront him one night. Apologising formally, and re-stating his duty to protect the Luminary, now and forever, against all that would stand between good and evil, and the fate of the world.

He thought for sure it would clear things up. But it was quiet. Hendrik was kneeling, staring at the ground, and only after a few more painstaking seconds did he finally move his gaze to Eleven.

The luminary stared at him, with that same sad look. Tears, which he was fighting diligently, fell from the corners of his eyes, staining his cheeks.

Hendrik tried not to panic, wide-eyed. What had he said to upset him so? Had he really caused that much damage to the younger man?

Before he could apologise for whatever it might be, Eleven shook his head, with a small smile. He offered a hand, pulling him up. He thanked him, and was clearly distraught, but Hendrik pushed it no more, offering him to rest in their camp for the night, as he kept an eye out.

He wouldn’t tell anyone of the sobs he heard in the boy’s sleep.

It made his heart ache in an unfamiliar manner. He wanted to comfort him, tell him it was okay-- whatever it was that was affecting him so. 

Hendrik could admit that he was beginning to have a soft spot for the hero. There was something there, when they exchanged glances, when no one was looking. He couldn’t help but feel an emptiness in his chest, as if something was missing-- what something that was, he could not describe.

He needed to find it.

* * *

It was only a few nights later that a revelation shook between the members of their group. 

Eleven told of their journey before, in a different place, in a different time. How the tree had fallen, and Mordegon rained ruler of the world. How he ventured across the lands, defeating Mordegon’s followers and relocating their friends so that they could team up once more.

But then he spoke of the mage, and her death so that they may live. It suddenly all made sense. He was willing to sacrifice the memories of his friends, those who cared most for him, to make a difference in the world. To change the flow of time, to help his fallen companion-- it was rather noble.

The choice to make to leave his friends and go through it all again...

Hendrik couldn’t believe it-- yet he could still see that look in the hero’s eyes. A regret, perhaps. There was something truly special to him that he left behind, in order for him to change the course of time-- what could it possibly be?

He could only assume that such heartbreak could come with losing one he loved. They had been on countless journeys together, facing all manner of foe. It would only make sense that the hero, especially at that age, would find someone to truly care for.

Everything changed once he began noticing his own feelings for the hero. They were different to the companionship he’d initially read them as.

He thought it best to place distance between them. For both their sake.

The dreams began not soon after, showing him visions of a world from another time, another place. All was dark, monsters roaming the land, people dying-- truly dreadful. In the middle of it stood a light-- but it wasn’t the luminary-- it was Hendrik himself. He was helping, rebuilding, saving lives of those with nowhere left to go. 

He awoke in shock, unsure if these were visions of the past, future, or the dreams of a tired man.

Which of these options scared him more, he could not be sure.

* * *

When he spoke of these dreams to Eleven, a burning fire lit in the younger man’s eyes. A look was there that he hadn’t seen since their journey together began. It was hope. He insisted Hendrik let him know if he remembered more. But he confirmed his original theory-- they were memories of another version of himself. What more was there to learn from this time?

Pieces came back gradually, sometimes unexpectedly. But he wasn’t the only one-- the other members of their team experiencing the same dilemma. Regardless of their stories, the hero was always peering at Hendrik, as if waiting, or hoping, that he’d have new memories to share.

Hendrik had hoped that for his own sake, he would continue to dream.

It was not too long after their adventures, when peace was brought back to the world once more, that they spoke of their futures. It was decided that they split up, go their separate ways for a while. They would remain on call, should a new threat arise, but it was for the best at this point. They all had other unfinished business to attend to.

All but Hendrik, who was torn-- return to Heliodor by the King’s side once more, or remain with the Luminary as his sword and his shield.

The hero insisted that they no longer needed to remain beside him, urging him to return to his life as a soldier of Heliodor. Yet he could not help but think that there was sorrow behind his words.

* * *

Days turned into weeks, when Hendrik awakened one morning to a message from the Luminary-- requesting his presence. After his panic faltered, he realised it was merely a friendly gathering, and not a call for aid to a new darkness looming.

He ventured to Cobblestone, a place he had not visited since he had first detained the residents. He hoped they could forgive his past actions, but he was glad he had made them-- for should he have not been there, Jasper would have surely killed them all. Which would have left the hero, truly, with no home to return to. For that, he was thankful.

A small house on the outer hills of the town is where the Luminary had called home. It was a quaint place, not nearly to the standards that Hendrik would say that such a hero deserved. But it was all he had wanted-- a humble place, but the river bank that overlooked the town.

He had found himself to be the first to arrive, leaving his beloved horse in a nearby stable until his time to return was called. The hero greeted him with a smile that he had not seen before, of a man on another level of happiness. It startled him, in a way-- that someone as selfless and honourable as the Luminary would be glad to see someone of his stature.

Hendrik finds himself pulled to the hillside, the hero urging him to come with him up the tor. Confusion remained prevalent, wondering why it was just the two of them. Unless, he’d misinterpreted from the beginning.

It was dusk when they reached the peak, allowing them to view the nearby land with warm colours as the sun fell in the distance. It was calming, a soft breeze causing a chill to run down his spine.

The hero had always been a man of few words, letting his actions speak for him. On this occasion, he drew his sword, pointing it to Hendrik-- a challenge for a duel.

Their fight was friendly, but Hendrik didn’t go easy on his young companion-- they fought until the sun set, and he enjoys each minute of their confrontation. He watches his opponent smile, and that was the mistake that knocked him off his feet.

The Luminary was close, hovering over him. He finds there is no place to go, body tense under the other man’s gaze. Unsure of what to do, he remains still, waiting for the younger man to say something, _do something--_

The chaste kiss that followed was the last thing Hendrik expected. His mind reeled, processing, as he stared up at sorrowful eyes.

The hero says he likes him-- _that_ way. He kisses him again, albeit briefly, and Hendrik makes no action to protest.

All the pieces fell into place, as he finally understood what the hero had lost. The memories come flooding back, the odd nostalgia of their current predicament. 

But then the luminary’s words confused him more than ever before. He asked Hendrik to live with him. Just the two of them, together.

Surely he heard that wrong.

The young man faltered, perhaps from his lack of response, his mind still slow to catch up with the information it was receiving.

His hands shot out, grasping for the hero before he could turn and run. The two are knocked off balance, but it does the trick. 

Hendrik was no longer in control, holding his wrists as he towers over him. The hero was so small, so _defenceless_ beneath his grasp, but he appeared rather cheery at the current events taking place.

He couldn’t believe all the pain-- the _heartbreak--_ he had felt as Eleven decided to change time-- the _hurt_ the hero felt as he stayed with Hendrik once more, who remained forever oblivious to their relationship.

Hendrik couldn’t waste any more time than had already passed, hand caressing his cheek, and taking his lips in another kiss. 

Words couldn’t possibly help him atone for what he’d done, what he’d missed, or his feelings-- but he knew one thing for certain. 

_I will be your sword, your shield-- your man from Heliodor._


End file.
